


The Devil In The Details

by KaiYamazaki



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23633440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiYamazaki/pseuds/KaiYamazaki
Summary: “... Right. But why are we just… watching movies?” Shiro was frowning again, confusion pinching his brow.“It’s called a date, Feathers. We are having a date. Or,” Keith smirked, taking a drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out on the table, and turning himself on the couch, until he could clamber halfway up onto it and crawl over Shiro’s lap, voice dropping to a rough purr, “were you expecting to get straight to doing the nasty?”Shiro flushed a pleasing shade of dusky pink, his dark, stormy-grey eyes going wide before he could compose himself. “... Well. Yes. You are a demon, after all.”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	The Devil In The Details

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by fanart by Lightning Strikes on [tumblr](http://lightningstrikes-art.tumblr.com/post/177697866879/i-can-be-your-angleor-yuor-devil-read-left-to)  
> I don’t even an SPN I know like five things about it, but I do know Good Omens and Lucifer, so I’m leaning more heavily into those to make this a hodge-podge of angel and demon AU with an SPN flavour.

_Glad doing business with you, Shiro. I look forward to our time together._

Keith knew that it would take Shiro some time to gather the hundred thousand souls that he’d asked for, and even more for him to get over himself and actually come to fulfill the other part of the price for the dark quintessence he needed - the night of _quality time_ together. That suited him just fine. Gathering the power itself didn’t take too long, but he wanted to make some other preparations for their night together.

He walked across the lobby of his chosen hotel, an opulent place decked out in carved marble and plush carpeting, perfect for showing Shiro the temptations of mortal luxury, and leaned on the counter with one elbow, resting his head in his hand.

“Good afternoon, sir. Checking in?” The receptionist asked, all brisk cheerfulness and pretty smiles as she tapped at her computer’s keyboard.

“Yeah. Tell me, who’s the absolute worst politician you have staying here right now? You know the one, the one who makes more in a minute than you do in a year, who tells everyone he’s on a business trip while he screws his mistress in the hot tub and expects housekeeping to clean it all up. Ah, _there_ ,” he catches a flicker in her surprised gaze and grins, slow and lazy and conspiratorial, “you thought of someone. That guy, I want you to walk him. I want his room.”

“I can’t - I can’t do that -”

“Sure you can. Just switch things around, tell him it was double booked, give him a nice but _small_ room instead of the - penthouse suite, right?” There was no way someone like that would book anything else.

“Even if I could, I can’t, he’s a gold card member.”

“ _Gold card_? Please.” Keith grinned again, pulled a black card out of his breast pocket and slid it across the counter to her. “Try _obsidian_.”

“I’ve… never seen a card like this,” she said, picking it up and turning it between her fingers.

“Of course not. They’re extremely exclusive.” He smirked, watching the persuasion charm on the card wind its magic into the receptionist’s skin, soaking in unseen, pushing his influence on her. Making this persuasion easy. “Now, do I need to wait for you to call your manager over, or…”

“...I’ll take care of it, sir. For such a valued customer, it’s not a problem.”

“Fantastic.” A little rule breaking, and the only person getting hurt was a scummy politician and his pride. What a delightful way to start the evening.

“Here’s your room key. Can I ask… what your plans for today are?”

Keith laughed lightly, slipping the keycard and the obsidian card both into his pocket. “Afraid not. It’s a personal matter. _Very_ personal.” He turned and waved over his shoulder as he sauntered across to the elevators.

\--

_This place is fancy. Isn’t this a little much?_  
_Is anything too much for Shiro?_  
_… No._

\--

The sun was setting by the time a knock came at the door, and the golden-amber sunlight trickling through the windows as the day died cast a soft glow over Shiro when Keith opened the door to let him in, his white hair lit up like a gentle halo of gold. Given enough time, the tint would turn darker, like honey, then roses, then blood. Keith wasn’t in the mood for such natural ironies, though, and with a thought, the curtains pulled themselves shut and the lights flicked on. Such a blatant use of demonic power for what amounted to a parlour trick put a deeper frown on Shiro’s already stoic face.

“Good to see you, Feathers. I almost thought you were going to chicken out. Come on in.” He smirked, stepping back and gesturing Shiro inside.

“I don’t see what chickens have to do with this,” Shiro muttered, coming inside and standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, clearly uncomfortable as he glanced around.

Keith paused, an incredulous huff of laughter bubbling up in his chest. “They don’t - I’m saying I thought you’d be too scared to come, angel.” He closed the door, locking it with a heavy click, and stepped right up into Shiro’s personal space, crowding against him. “Let’s get you more comfortable, hm?” He tugged on Shiro’s coat, pulling at the lapels.

“I can undress myself.” Shiro huffed, and hurriedly shrugged out of his long overcoat, trying to put a little more distance between them with the act.

“Of course you can, Feathers. Let me take that for you.” Keith reached for the overcoat, snagging it from Shiro and making to toss it aside, until he caught the way Shiro’s eyebrow twitched at the action. Rolling his eyes and making an aggrieved noise, he hung it neatly on the room’s coat rack instead. “Ah, ah, stop - sit on the couch.” He said sharply when he turned around to find Shiro starting to unfasten and strip out of his suit jacket, too.

“...Okay.” Shiro sounded as confused as he wouldn’t allow himself to look, but he stopped, leaving his jacket on but open, and sat primly on the couch.

Keith grinned and plopped down on the seat next to him, immediately slouching back and leaning against Shiro’s side, making the angel stiffen. It was so easy to put him on edge, even with what should have been innocent touches. “Alright, let’s get started.” He grabbed the remote and switched on the huge television, bringing up a paused screen which he quickly pressed play on.

“What -” Shiro started to ask, startled.

“Oh! That’s right! _Snacks_.” Keith snapped his fingers, and his hellhound appeared in a cloud of blue and red sparks and black smoke, a large cloth bundle tied around the back of his neck. “Good boy.” Keith purred, and as Shiro looked on in bemusement, he untied the bundle and petted the hellhound’s head, scritching between his ears, before it disappeared again. He opened up the bundle and proffered a bag to Shiro. “Popcorn? Or would you prefer cheetos?”

“I don’t… need to eat. Neither do you.” Shiro frowned in confusion.

“I know _that_ ,” Keith all but groaned, rolling his eyes. “But when you’re watching a movie, you need snacks. That’s just how this works, Feathers. So live a little. Tell me, what do you _want_? There’s hot spicy cheetos too.”

“No. I…” When Shiro paused, it was as if he were considering his choices with the utmost gravity - and perhaps he was. Angels were never really given much _choice_ in their lives, until the throne of heaven fell vacant, at least. “I would… prefer… popcorn.”

Keith handed over the bag of popcorn with a smile that was softer than it should have been. It quickly dissipated into a teasing smirk. “Boooring, but classic. I hope you’re prepared to share.”

“You have your own snack food.”

“Yeah, but I _want yours_.” He stuck out his tongue, and that was enough to settle any further protests Shiro might have had.

“What are -”

“Shh! It’s starting.”

\--

“Isn’t this a cartoon?”

“It’s an anime.”

Shiro’s gaze flicked to the side as he considered that answer, then looked back at Keith. “Who is Anime? The director?”

“... Oh my god.”

\--

As the credits rolled, Shiro shifted in his seat next to Keith. He’d relaxed a bit during the movie, attention caught by the events on the screen, and it took him a moment to gather himself back into a semblance of prim and proper posture. “That was… entertaining.”

“Right?” Keith practically crowed, grinning. “It’s one of my favourites.”

“... Right. But why are we just… watching movies?” Shiro was frowning again, confusion pinching his brow.

“It’s called a date, Feathers. We are having a date. Or,” Keith smirked, taking a drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out on the table, and turning himself on the couch, until he could clamber halfway up onto it and crawl over Shiro’s lap, voice dropping to a rough purr, “were you expecting to get straight to doing the nasty?”

Shiro flushed a pleasing shade of dusky pink, his dark, stormy-grey eyes going wide before he could compose himself. “... Well. Yes. You are a demon, after all.”

“... Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Keith muttered, almost to himself. “I asked for a night of _quality time_ , Archangel,” he pointed out more loudly, almost chiding. “It hardly counts if we rush right to the main act, and we’ve got all night long to get there. But if you insist…” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Shiro’s mouth, licking at his lips until Shiro yielded and let him deepen things, pushing his tongue inside to get a good taste of him.

It was Shiro who broke the kiss, of course, pulling away with a scandalised look and biting his bottom lip. “I’m not insisting on anything. And you taste like an ashtray.”

Keith laughed, deliberately letting a little puff of black smoke coil out of his mouth as he did so. “I sure fucking do. And now _I’m_ insisting.” He pressed a more chaste kiss to the corner of Shiro’s mouth, only to nuzzle his way along his cheek and bite lightly at the lobe of his ear. Meanwhile, he slid fully into Shiro’s lap, straddling his hips and letting his hands start to wander over his chest, pushing at his jacket. Shiro took the hint, although seemingly reluctantly, shrugging awkwardly out of his jacket, folding it and setting it aside on the arm of the couch. Keith huffed another quiet laugh against his ear and dipped his head, kissing the side of his neck. He was surprised to feel Shiro’s hands settle on his sides, holding him, even feeling out the shape of him. Alright, maybe not so reluctant after all. He made an encouraging noise and slid his hands lower, pulling Shiro’s shirt free of his dress trousers so that he could slip his hands underneath the soft cotton and touch the smooth, warm skin of Shiro’s stomach. He felt the toned muscles contract the same time he heard Shiro gasp softly, a shocked inhalation further cracking his attempted facade of impassivity. He grinned and brought his head back up to catch Shiro’s mouth in another kiss as he skated his hands upwards, pushing up the shirt in his quest to stroke over every inch of him until he reached his chest, feeling out the slight curve of the musculature there and humming in satisfaction against Shiro’s lips. He broke the kiss so that he could hear the noise that Shiro made when his fingers sought out his nipples and swiped over them roughly, and he wasn’t disappointed.

“That -” Shiro cut himself off with a choked noise as Keith tugged lightly at his nipples.

“This?” He smiled, expression softened with the satisfaction glowing deep in the red of his eyes. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” He waited, letting his hands rest idly on Shiro’s chest.

“It… mn.” Shiro nodded, flushed with embarrassment and frowning again. He was solid in his conviction that Keith was waiting to make him answer in order to enjoy his humiliation at having to admit that it felt good to have his nipples played with, so he didn’t fully put it into words, didn’t give Keith the satisfaction of hearing him give the admission in full.

Keith was satisfied enough anyway. “Good,” he hummed, and again his expression was softer than it should have been, even as he smirked at Shiro’s admission. He pulled at Shiro’s nipples again, just enough to elicit a sharp gasp from him, before leaning in to kiss him again while his fingers continued playing with the taut peaks of his chest. He couldn’t resist the temptation to grind down against Shiro’s lap, feeling the gratifying heat and pressure of definite arousal rewarding his motion - but that was enough to have Shiro jolting in place and pushing him away, looking scandalised.

Which was _adorable_.

“Too fast for you, Feathers?” He asked, his voice a low, teasing purr, but there was a note of sincerity to it, and he reached up with one hand to cup the back of Shiro’s head, stroking through the soft, short hair at the base of his skull.

“... No. I’m fine.” Shiro asserted after a moment, catching his breath, his face still faintly flushed.

“Good. Because as much as I’m _enjoying_ making out like horny teenagers on the couch, we should really move things to the bedroom.” He grinned at the noise of consternation that Shiro made in response, then tugged on his hair. “C’mon, pick me up.”

“What… why don’t you just teleport us in there?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Pff, where’s the fun in that? Carry me. Unless I’m too much for you to handle, Old Timer…?”

“Old -” Shiro frowned, and wrapped his arms around Keith, holding him in close as he stood up off of the couch. Keith responded by laughing and slinging his legs around Shiro’s waist, hooking his ankles together over the small of Shiro’s back, and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “I may be ancient, but I can still handle you just fine.” That only made Keith laugh harder, and as Shiro carried him into the large hotel bedroom, he had to wonder just how old the crossroads demon was, compared to his youthful, pretty vessel. He didn’t have long to spend thinking about that before being distracted, as they reached the bed and he attempted to set Keith down. “Lie down.”

“Bossy. I like it,” Keith murmured, biting at Shiro’s lips before finally, reluctantly letting go and letting himself fall onto the bed. He didn’t exactly lie down, but scooted backwards, leaning back on his elbows and spreading his legs, planting a hand over his crotch and sticking out his tongue. “Just remember that I’m in charge tonight. Now come get me.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Shiro huffed, a faint flush dusting his cheeks at the display, but he hesitated. “Just - wait a moment.”

Keith blinked and sat up, peering in curiosity as Shiro sat on the edge of the bed. “... Are you… taking your shoes off? Really?”

“Someone has to clean these sheets, demon.” Shiro said, part reproachful, part petulant.

“Oh my god. You are so… so _cute_.” Keith laughed, again, but this time it was warm and fond. He ran a hand back through his messy hair, pushing his bangs out of his face, and swung his legs over the other side of the bed, making a show of kicking his own red sneakers off, and even pulling off his socks and tossing them aside too, wiggling his toes. “There. Better?”

“... Much.” Shiro tried not to dwell on why a demon would be so accommodating, choosing instead to tug off his own socks and tuck them neatly into his shoes, before turning and clambering onto the bed, next to Keith. He stopped before he was right on top of him, clearly still flustered.

“Come here,” Keith reached out and snagged Shiro’s tie, yanking on it to pull Shiro into another kiss, wrapping his arms around him and dragging him down onto the bed on top of him. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous, Feathers.”

“I am not.” Shiro protested immediately, grabbing one of Keith’s wrists and pushing his arm back down onto the pillow next to his face. And… stopping, again.

“Hey, hey, there’s nothing _wrong_ with being nervous about this, you know. It’s your first time, right?” Keith said softly, almost reassuringly, before adding, “You angels don’t really go in for the sins of the flesh, after all.” It was more teasing, but without any real bite to it, as if he’d caught himself being too nice and tried to compensate, weakly.

“No, we don’t.” Shiro admitted, quietly, frowning. It wasn’t quite an admission that this was his first time having sex, but it was close enough. Too close for his own comfort. This demon didn’t need to know such details, didn’t need to know that this was his first time inhabiting a mortal vessel, let alone getting… intimate while doing so.

Keith hummed thoughtfully, rolling the sound around in his mouth. “You could always ask your vessel for some advice. Maybe he has more… experience.” He drawled, finally.

“... What are you talking about?” Shiro’s frown sharpened, a blue edge limning his stare.

“Cool it, Feathers. I just mean - when you inhabit someone, your souls get tangled up just like with demons, sure. But you angels, you ask for permission and shit, don’t you? So you can still hear him, right? Can’t you?” There was more than idle curiosity to the question, a strange tension snaking under Keith’s tone as he gently stroked the side of Shiro’s face with one hand.

“Yes, I can. But I hardly need his advi - ow!” Shiro cut off with a pained exclamation as Keith went from stroking his cheek to pinching it, hard.

“Hey, fuckface, that’s his body you’re using. The least you can do is ask him what it likes. Fucking angels,” Keith growled, glaring up at him, eyes flashing a deeper red.

“Since when do demons care about humans so much?”

“Just because I’m a demon, that doesn’t mean I have to be a total _jerk_.” He huffed.

“You’re saying that _I’m_ the jerk,” Shiro pointed out flatly.

“If you don’t ask him, yeah, you are.”

Shiro sighed. Keith had a point, although it was strange to hear it coming from a demon. “Fine, I’ll ask.”

“Um…”

“... What now?”

“Can you ask him, uh… if he has a preference. About topping or - uh, no, wait. Ask him if he wants to be giving or receiving.”

“I don’t understand -”

“Just ask!” Keith tugged on his cheek again, and Shiro could have sworn that he was blushing. It must have been from frustration.

Shiro sighed again, more aggravated this time, and closed his eyes. It was easy enough for him to communicate with his vessel’s soul, the essence of him sitting dormant at the back edge of his consciousness, intermingled yet separate, silent as if in a deep sleep unless roused. And roused he was, the questions causing him to stammer and then laugh abashedly. The answers were confusing, but somewhat helpful, and Shiro returned to the surface of the world, opening his eyes to see Keith staring up at him, red eyes dark with rapt attention. “He says that it varies, but when I described your vessel to him, he got quiet for a moment. Then he said he’d prefer to give, in this case.”

Keith licked his lips, and he was definitely flushed. “Alright. Yeah. We can do that. … You have no idea what he meant, do you?”

“Not really.”

Keith laughed, slightly helpless sounding. “Ahh, fuck. Don’t worry, I’ve got it. I’ll take it nice and slow for you, Feathers.”


End file.
